Past Imperfect
by Demosthenes23
Summary: A sequel to 21st Century Murdoch...so you might want to read that one first if you haven't already.
1. Chapter 1

"What have you doctor?" he asked squatting down across from Dr. Grace, crossing himself.

The body before them was that of a slightly red faced, bespectacled, middle aged balding man. They were in the middle of a damp forest and as a result Murdoch found himself a bit chilled. The man's walking companion said that he had complained of feeling ill and then simply collapsed.

"Cause of death remains unknown. There doesn't appear to be any puncture marks of any sort but I won't know for sure until I get him back to the morgue."

Unsurprisingly, the older the victim, the harder it was to ascertain if foul play was involved or if they simply died due to a heart attack or stroke. However, this lack of evidence by no means ruled out murder.

She looked across the body at him, "Do I have your permission to remove the deceased?"

"Of course, doctor."

They both stood up and he waved at two constables to come and collect the body. He watched as the young men loaded the older one into the waiting carriage. Shortly after this, George assailed him.

"Have you uncovered anything that could shed some light on this matter?"

"I'm afraid not, sir," he replied looking apologetic. "The only witness was his friend, Mr. Cardell...do you think he could have done something to Mr. Dasgard?"

"It's possible, I suppose, but I don't think it likely. Why would he volunteer himself as the sole witness if he himself was guilty of committing the crime."

_Assuming there even was one._

"I see your point, sir."

"However, it would be prudent to search the area for additional clues." George looked around them and the somewhat vast forest, with a dour expression. "Get Henry to help you."

* * *

After interviewing Dasgard's housekeeper who informed Murdoch that her employer had appeared perfectly healthy earlier that day, Murdoch occupied himself with working on his latest creation. There was no point investigating further until he knew for certain that this was murder. He supposed maybe he should have held off on having George and Henry scour the forest. But the longer they waited to search, the higher the risk that any potential evidence would be damaged by wildlife.

"Playing with your toys again, Murdoch?" the inspector said, grinning.

_They're not toys..._

"Don't you think a man who is about to get married should give that nonsense up?"

Murdoch stared at him blandly and didn't respond.

"Speaking of," Brackenreid continued, putting a hand on his shoulder, "how are you holding up, me old mucker? Any second thoughts?"

"Not at all, sir. I am quite pleased to finally be wed."

"And bed, no doubt," said Brackenreid, laughing.

Exasperated at his crudeness, "Sir, please, that is hardly appropriate subject matter for work."

"You need to lighten up, Murdoch. Women like a man who can have fun once in awhile. Dr. Ogden especially. Take it from me, if you want to hold on to your lady for the foreseeable future, you need to learn how to relax."

Murdoch pondered that for a moment. "I'll take that into consideration, sir."

"Of course you will, I'm always right."

With a wink and a click, the inspector was out the door.

* * *

"There's no doubt, detective, this was murder. He was definitely poisoned."

"With what exactly?"

Dr. Grace frowned. "I haven't determined that yet."

"Then how do you know he was poisoned?" he asked politely, raising an eyebrow.

She moved aside to reveal the mans heart on a pile of ice. It was severely discoloured and sickly looking as if a necrosis had taken hold. Far more than one would expect from a simple heart attack.

Removing a hand from behind his back he pointed and said, "I take it there are no genetic defects that could account for that?"

"None that we know of."

"But it's possible?"

"Well, yes, but I'm almost certain he was poisoned." He gave her an enquiring look waiting for her to elaborate. "He had extreme hyperglycemia-"

"Forgive me if I'm much mistaken, doctor but doesn't that simply mean he had Diabetes Mellitus?"

She seemed rather ticked off at him for interrupting. For whatever reason he had never come to like Dr. Grace very much and so wasn't bothered by her cold(er) demeanor.

"Why, yes, detective, he did. I examined his pancreas and there was a small amount of damage to it,"

_...ie. destruction of the islets of Langerhans...more specifically insulin, the isolation of which, by the Canadian Frederick Banting, led to the first treatments of Diabetes in the early 1920s..._

"indicating that he did indeed suffer from that condition, but it was hardly enough damage to have accounted for such extensive hyperglycemia. Besides, Diabetes would not cause the cardiac necrosis."

"Oh? Then what does?"

"As I was trying to say before, the unnaturally high glucose levels indicate that his body was under a lot of stress, and it was probably trying to fight off an infection. And this infection was likely the result of a poison of some sort."

_That's a lot of assumptions...but I would tend to agree with you. Complete suppression of insulin, when there is no undue cause, would indicate that something foreign had probably entered his system. Unless...unless this was the result of an autoimmune disease...but that is extremely rare and was not first described until the 1950s...I can't bring that up...  
_

Sometimes he really wished he didn't have a near photographic memory because most of the knowledge he acquired in the future was useless to him here.

Apparently he had been silent for too long prompting Dr. Grace to say, "Detective?"

"So someone was attempting to make this look like his Diabetes had killed him?"

"That would be my guess but only a very poor pathologist would have been fooled by such a ploy."

"Have you located an injection site?"

"Not yet."

"Anything else, doctor?"

"Not at the moment."

"Carry on then."

* * *

Murdoch was back in his office tinkering away again when George and Henry barged in without first knocking. Both were dishevelled and dirty and appeared to be in a sour moods.

"Did you find anything, constables?"

"Afraid not, sir," replied George wearily. "We combed a large area, stem to sternum and couldn't find any clues."

"It's stem to stern, George."

"What?"

"The expression," butted in Henry, annoyed. "Can't you get anything right? I thought you were supposed to be a writer?"

"So I made one mistake, Henry!" retorted George. "As if you never have!"

Murdoch rubbed his temples thinking, _I feel the beginnings of a headache coming on..._

"You called the detective's lie detector a mograph thingie! I distinctly recall that!"

Henry opened his mouth but Murdoch silenced the pair with a simple, "_Constables." _Once their attention was back on him he continued with, "You've had a long day. Perhaps you should head on home?"

They glared at each other once more and then exited through separate doors.

* * *

A little while later he received another visitor.

"Julia," he said smiling. "What a pleasant surprise." She made her way over to him and he put down his tools. "I wasn't expecting you tonight." He took her hands briefly to kiss them. "I thought you were busy with the last minute preparations?"

"Yes, well, Ruby was more focused than usual and we achieved all of our goals faster than anticipated." Julia smirked. "She was quite determined to make sure we were married without a single hitch."

"How considerate of her."

Julia laughed. "That's not a quality often attributed to my sister."

"No, I suppose not." Slight pause. "Does that mean you are free all day tomorrow?"

"I believe so, barring any emergencies." She gave him a coy look and placed a hand to his chest. "Why do you ask? Are you planning on being AWOL early?"

"Julia," he said glancing around, "what have I told you about using that kind of language?"

Her smile widened. "No one else is here, William, you've got nothing to worry about."

"That's not the point, Julia..."

She rolled her eyes. "No one forced you to give me a lesson in twenty-first century vocabulary."

"I beg to differ."

Julia smiled innocently in response and he sighed.

"You have yet to answer my question, William. Are you planning on being off work early tomorrow?"

"Planning, yes, but whether or not I _can_ be will be determined by how much progress is made on this case. As of yet, we are virtually nowhere. And I can't just leave George and the inspector to fend for themselves before we leave for our honeymoon."

"William, they are going to be on their own for a month, they will have to learn sooner or later how to do your job."

He gave her a look and it was her turn to sigh.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance?"

"That would be most welcome," he replied, smiling. "I'm sure Dr. Grace would be thrilled to work with you again." She just stared at him. "At any rate, it is late." He held out his arm, "Shall we?"

* * *

After a minute of silence she decided to try and break through his defenses once more. Though he had told her some words, whether on purpose or by accident, and filled her in on the specifics to what happened to him, she was still completely in the dark about certain future events. Mostly she was curious about the ones involving women's rights and when they would get the vote and be treated as equals, both in wages and status. She was sure that this happened even though he hadn't said so because the Julia of the future had been a detective! This had amused her exceedingly because William had once made a joke about her making a very good one.

"So, William," she said, "about the future...I find I can't help thinking about it."

"I know, Julia, and I would love to tell you but as I have told you before, I am almost certain that you would be haunted by the answers because you would be powerless to effect change in a more timely manner."

"You keep saying that but _why_ exactly would I be powerless to effect change? Why can't we interfere with the natural course of events?"

He was silent for a moment and then said, "First of all, how would it look if I suddenly started producing devices decades ahead of their time? Or curing all of the world's current diseases?"

"You invent plenty of things..."

William became a bit irritated. "How many times must I say this, my creations are simply slight reworkings of existing technology...they _aren't_ inventions."

"Well in any case, you wouldn't have to cure the diseases yourself." She smirked. "You could let me do it."

He gave her a look.

"I'm joking, William."

_Sort of._

"But you _could_ just anonymously tip off the relevant authorities on the subject matter and speed up their rates of discovery."

"Yes, I could but there's no telling what kind of effect that would have on the future. It could change things in ways we couldn't imagine."

While she heard what he was saying she still couldn't get passed a single notion. "You mean like making the world a better place, free of so much sickness and needless death?"

"It's not that simple, Julia." He sighed and then she got her wish. "As far as I could tell, there were far too many people on the planet as it was, their resources were quickly dwindling, their streets were full of cars and smog and garbage, crime was at an all time high...think about how much worse things would be by _then_ if I, if _we_ interfered _now_? Humanity must find a balance with nature like all other living organisms or the result is chaos. There is a reason God deemed it necessary that his creations life cycle's must come to an end."

This bleak look at the future threw her for a moment but then she found the ground again.

"And what about the children who continue to suffer? Is that part of God's plan too?"

"_Julia_..."

"Don't you Julia me!" she snapped, stopping their forward momentum. She extracted her arm from his. "I don't understand how you can be so nonchalant about all of this! How can you just stand idly by when you _know_ you can do something?!"

William just looked at her sadly. The depth of this melancholy hurt her more than words could express. "If you think this is easy for me, you don't know me at all."

"William, I-I'm sorry," she said placing a hand on his forearm.

"It's quite all right, Julia," he replied, patting it.

They continued walking again.

"I suppose I've just illustrated your point perfectly. I would not be able to handle the full truth. I'm no William Murdoch."

"No but you are a wonderfully passionate individual who simply desires equality and wellness for everyone. That is a most noble goal and it is just one of the many reasons that I love you so much."

They smiled at one another and then she huddled a little closer to him. She always felt so safe and secure when he was by her side. Though she would never admit it to anyone, she didn't much like walking around at night by herself. One never could tell who was lurking just around the corner.

They reached her home.

"Care to come in, detective?" she asked coyly.

"Thank you but I'll pass."

"You'll pass?" she said, arcing her eyebrows. "Now who's using the wrong century language."

"Ah, that was an accident," he said apologetically, as if he had sworn at her most profusely. Sometimes he was so adorable that she just wanted to grab him and never let go. "Good night," he added hastily.

"Good night."

He leaned in for a kiss that ended far too quickly for her liking, tipped his hat to her and continued on down the street.


	2. Chapter 2

George was still a bit stiff and sore from all of his hunching over the previous day in the forest. That didn't stop him from jumping out of his chair when the detective came in from the morgue later that morning.

"Any more leads, sir?"

"Other than the fact that we now know without a doubt that he inhaled an unknown toxin, no, nothing."

"What do we do now?"

"We'll have to retrace his steps to find out where he was. Hopefully that will point towards his killer."

"I'll get started on that right away, sir!"

Murdoch nodded and then was called into Brackenreid's office.

"How goes it?"

The inspector listened patiently to the same thing he had just told Crabtree.

"And if retracing his steps leads nowhere?"

"Then we take another approach, sir."

"And if you don't have time to, Murdoch, what then?"

"Then I suppose you are on your own, sir."

Brackenreid was not happy at the prospect of having Crabtree as their lead detective for the foreseeable future. Most likely it meant he would have to do a large amount of the heavy lifting. And he would never admit it to Murdoch's face but he had gotten fairly lazy over the past few years.

"It's like I always say, Murdoch, when in doubt, follow the money. People are always killing over their petty squabbles. Do you have someone working on that angle?"

"Yes, sir. Henry is currently sorting through Mr. Dasgard's finances. So far he has yet to ascertain anything out of the ordinary."

"Well, if there is anything there, it's not likely to be out in the open, is it?"

"No, sir."

"What are you working on yourself?" He smirked. "Other than your latest thingamajig that is."

"It's called an induction balance machine, sir. If I am successful in building it, I will be able to locate metal buried beneath the ground."

"Really?" asked Brackenreid quizzically. "How is that possible?"

The instant he said it, he regretted it. Number one rule when dealing with Murdoch, don't ask questions you don't want the answers to! You were bound to be bored silly by the time he finished explaining something and you _still_ wouldn't be the wiser for it!

"Well, sir, there's an electrode attached to a powerful magnet-"

"Don't you have something more important to be doing?" he barked. "Like solving this bloody murder before your wedding!"

"Of course, sir. I will go assist George in his efforts."

* * *

Dasgard had apparently been all over the place in the hours leading up to his death. Even more frustrating was the fact that none of these places seemed likely locations for his chemical exposure. They were currently biking back to the station house for a late lunch. George was a bit wary of Murdoch, he had been rather irritable today.

_Must be pre-wedding jitters._

This idea lead him to another.

"Remember the Jewish maiden case, sir?"

"Refresh my memory, George."

"Well, sir, there was this young lady who was caught up in a bit of a love triangle, something straight out of a Shakespearean play, two lovers from different sides of the tracks, secretly in love, while this other fellow, her fiance, was also desperately in love with her, but she wants nothing to do with him-"

Unbeknownst to George, he had managed to say all of that in one breath, while exerting himself on the bicycle.

"The _point_, George," said Murdoch tersely.

"Right! Well, sir, her secret lover was murdered by her father because he wanted to make sure her wedding to the rich doctor went off without a hitch." He smirked while glancing at the detective, "Sort of like you and Dr. Ogden," Murdoch glared at him, "but not really I suppose, Mr. Ogden would never try to kill you. At least I think he wouldn't, I've never personally met the man-"

"_George!_"

George realized he had said something wrong.

"Actually, I think I've got that mixed up. The father wasn't trying to kill her secret love, he was trying to kill this other bloke who was attempting to set up a union because the working conditions were absolutely abysmal-"

"Dumbass!" yelled Murdoch, pedalling ahead of the constable.

_Dumbass? What on earth did that mean? Something to do with donkeys?_

George frowned at the outburst and then hurried to catch up to the detective.

"Dumbass, sir?"

"Forget about it," said Murdoch evasively. "Forgive me, George, I didn't mean to lose my temper like that."

"It's fine, sir, I'm sure I would be stressed out too if I were to be getting married tomorrow."

"You were saying, George?"

"Long story short, the secret lovers had been rendezvousing by a steam press laced with arsenic. Do you think it could be something like that this time as well?"

"Have we uncovered a single shred of evidence linking Mr. Dasgard to such a device?"

"Well, no-"

"Then obviously there is no connection!" he snapped. "Why don't you learn to think a bit before speaking?! You'd save everyone a great deal of time!"

George gawked at the detective, frowning again. He was acting more like the inspector lately than himself. Most peculiar.

The detective sighed. "I'm sorry, George, I don't know what came over me."

They rode in silence the rest of the way back.

* * *

After debriefing the inspector on their findings, or rather lack of them, Crabtree stayed behind, with a troubled expression across his face.

"Sir, I'm a bit worried about the detective."

"How so?"

The lad glanced around and closed his office door.

_This should be good._

Whispering, "I think he's suffering from cocaine withdrawal."

Brackenreid had been expecting something stupid but this comment had exceeded his expectations.

"Bloody hell, Crabtree!" chuckled the inspector. "Murdoch despises the stuff! There's no way he would be using cocaine!"

Very seriously, "Then how do you explain his mood swings?"

"What mood swings?" he said frowning, "I haven't noticed any."

"Well, you wouldn't have. It was only while we were looking into Dasgard's whereabouts that he lost his temper...many times."

Brackenreid wanted to say, 'Has it ever occurred to you, Crabtree, that you can be bloody annoying?' Instead he said, "And you suspect cocaine because..."

"He's acting very similar to how...you were, sir, when you went through your little problem."

"Look, Crabtree, I'm sure Murdoch is just feeling the stress of his upcoming nuptials. It's been a long time coming."

"I thought that too, sir, but now...now I think there's more to it than that. He called me the most peculiar word earlier-"

Pointing to the door, "Get the hell out! I'm done talking about this nonsense!"

* * *

Julia came across William while he was just finishing up his lunch of bread and cheese and water. Not for the first time, she felt a bit guilty because she had eaten a most scrumptious mixed salad with an assortment of fruit and vegetables in it and a nice Chateau Margaux to wash it all down. This was just one of the ways that she was reminded about their class and income differences. Of course she didn't care about such things in the slightest and always did her best to pretend like there wasn't a wall between them or that their social circles were even remotely in the same realm, but the sad truth was that there was and always would be, even after they were married.

Very few of her well to do friends had RSVP'd for their wedding. Whether this was more to do with her divorce from Darcy or who William was, she couldn't say, but it did hurt to think her so called friends could be so unfaithful. Then again, was it less than she deserved? From the instant she had married Darcy, she had realized what a terrible mistake she had made and no matter what she did, she couldn't stop thinking about William. And when he disappeared she had been inconsolable. And since Darcy was no fool, he had known what about, or rather who. As soon as William returned from his unbelievable time travel experience, she had kissed him! In the heat of the moment, it might have been understandable but after that, and there were plenty of times after that, she had no such excuse.

Being around Emily and dead bodies had caused her clinical mind to take over. As such she had forgotten to ask William a basic question.

Smiling, "How are you fairing today, William?"

He looked up, smiled, stood up and went over to her. "Better, now that you are here." His eyes looked her up and down in such a way as to make her blush slightly. "I must say you are looking absolutely ravishing today. I could eat you up right here and now."

"Eat me up?" she asked bemused. "Is that expression taken from Little Red Riding Hood?"

William thought for a moment. "To be honest I have no idea." He smiled. "But you could be right. You look more delicious than usual."

Before she even had a chance to respond, he yanked her closer, in a most immodest way, especially considering where they were and the blinds weren't even drawn!

Then he whispered in her ear in a most husky manner, "I can't wait until tomorrow night," and she felt shivers run down her spine and despite her best efforts, her breathing began to quicken.

He pulled back slightly and brought her in for a searing kiss that left her seeing stars. He was doing something with his tongue that she had never experienced in her life but that only served to increase the pleasure of the situation. Before long there was a knock at the door, interrupting them, as usual.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt, sir," said Henry, in that same smug way that she knew meant he wasn't sorry in the least.

Normally they would have jumped apart long before this but William had yet to move a muscle. So it was left to her to break up their close contact. For all of her modern minded notions, she still found it awkward when people caught them like this, what William alluded to as being PDA's in the future. Apparently in the heat of this particular moment, (and indeed it was quite steamy and reminded her of a fantasy from long ago) he no longer had this issue.

Though she was currently out of breath and flustered, Julia managed to peel his hands off of her.

William glowered and without looking at Henry snapped, "_What_?"

For once the constable seemed a bit taken aback and she was a bit surprised by his actions herself. "Uh, well, I was able to uncover a financial discrepancy in Mr. Dasgard's records."

"_And_?"

"And I thought you would want to take a look...sir."

When William looked over at the constable, she was again surprised, this time by the level of cold fury in his eyes. It had only been there for a second and then it had disappeared. She wondered if maybe the light had just illuminated them in a peculiar way.

"Give it here," he said more normally but still a bit gruffly.

Henry practically tip toed over and placed the folder in his hand. William flipped it open, stared at it intently for about ten seconds and then headed over to get his hat.

"I'm sorry, Julia, but I have to attend to this."

And just like that, he was gone.

* * *

Though the inspector thought nothing of it, George couldn't help but shake the feeling that something was off with the detective. So when Murdoch left, taking Henry with him, (the doctor leaving shortly after and Brackenreid busy on the phone) George went into his office and began riffling through his things. He knew it was wrong, had even chastised Ruby once for being so disrespectful, but it was the only way to try and locate the source of Murdoch's strange behaviour.

Not finding anything in Murdoch's desk, George moved over to his storage area and searched through there. He even went so far as to open every single book to see if there might be a secret compartment in one. After all, he had given the detective this very idea once and since no one would ever be interested in the subject matter, no one would ever think to look in them. So to George this was a plausible and ingenious hiding place. However, when he reached the last book and had still found nothing, he determined that he had been wrong in this assessment.

Mind you, this didn't completely rule out his theory. It was just as likely that the detective could have stashed his remaining drugs at his apartment. It was one thing to go through the detective's things at work (since they sometimes shared pens and typewriters and even clothes) and an entirely different one to do so in his home. If he went that route, he would be no better than a criminal, breaking and entering. But George was determined to get down to the bottom of this mystery and therefore would need proof.

George pocketed the detective's skeleton key, grabbed his copper topper and was about to leave the station house when he was called back by Brackenreid.

"Crabtree! Where the bloody hell do you think you're going?!"

He turned around to face the inspector. "Um, I was...uh..."

Brackenreid frowned at him. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"Uh, nothing, sir! Nothing at all!"

"Look, I know you've been getting friendly with the coroner but you can't go leaving your post every time there's a lull in the case! And especially not when it causes you to slack off on your goddamn paperwork! If you can't handle your station now, how do you expect to when Murdoch leaves and you have even more to do?"

George didn't know what to say.

"Man your desk, Crabtree, and do your goddamn job!"

"Yes, sir!"

It appeared George's criminal activity would have to wait. He just hoped it wouldn't be for long because this nagging feeling was here to stay until then and it was most unpleasant, not unlike the good detective's demeanour today.


	3. Chapter 3

"Cracking fine job on solving the case, Murdoch!" boomed Brackenreid, thumping him on the back as he made his way over to the alcohol.

"Actually, sir, it was mostly Henry's due diligence that led to the arrest."

The inspector shook his head as he poured himself a glass. "Learn to take credit for others work. It's the mark of a good leader." He looked at Murdoch wryly and shook his half full glass. "I don't suppose I can tempt you with a celebratory drink?"

"That would be very nice, sir."

"Bloody typical," he muttered.

_Wait a minute!_

Brackenreid whipped his head up. "You're accepting my offer?"

Murdoch simply smiled.

"Bloody hell!" he said in hushed tones. "I never thought I'd live to see the day!" Brackenreid quickly poured another glass and brought it over to Murdoch who removed one hand from behind his back in order to receive it.

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

Murdoch stared at the contents and said, "I am to be married tomorrow. I thought it might help calm my nerves."

Brackenreid clinked his glass and said, "May you have many happy years together, me old mucker. You deserve it."

The detective looked up. "Thank you, sir. That's very kind of you to say."

They took a simultaneous swallow from their tumblers and Murdoch made a face.

"Now I remember why I don't partake."

Brackenreid laughed, in truth it was more like a growl and said, "This stuff puts hair on your chest! Makes you a real man!"

"If you say so, sir."

"So Murdoch, I know you probably don't want any marriage advice from me but I'm going to give it to you anyway because that's what friends do. First piece of wisdom is, you never want to go to bed angry. If you don't smooth things over with the missus before you go to bed, she's bound to stay mad at you for a long, long time. And you know what that means."

Murdoch appeared confused so Brackenreid spelt it out for him.

"No hanky panky."

"Oh."

"My second piece of wisdom helps with accomplishing the first. Always let the missus win a fight or two. It makes her feel superior once in awhile and she'll appreciate you more for it. Which means more hanky panky."

Murdoch nodded and took another sip, wincing.

"Thirdly, make sure to take the time to make her feel special, by taking her out for a night on the town. They bloody love it when you do romantic dinners or dancing. This is especially important on their birthdays or your anniversary. If you forget either of them, you'll be in for it big time and that's again when you want to remember my second piece of wisdom."

The detective was staring at the glasses contents again.

"Murdoch?"

"Yes, sir?"

Brackenreid got a bit annoyed. "Are you even bloody paying attention to me?"

"Of course, sir. Make her feel special and get hanky panky."

"Ah, I think he's got it!" exclaimed Brackenreid, clapping him on the shoulder. "Lastly, and I cannot stress this enough, Murdoch, make sure you clean up after yourself. They bloody well hate it when you're a slob!" Murdoch looked at him politely and Brackenreid frowned. "Oh but I suppose that doesn't apply to you, you'll have bloody servants doing everything."

Murdoch downed the rest of his drink, and Brackenreid was surprised that the detective had finished before him.

"Everything all right, Murdoch?"

"Thank you for the drink, sir, and the words of advice." Murdoch handed him the empty glass. "I take it I'll see you tomorrow then, at four o'clock?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Murdoch tipped his hat to him. "Good night, sir."

Brackenreid just had an idea.

"Wait a second, Murdoch!"

The detective halted at the eastern threshold to the office. "Yes, sir?"

The inspector opened up his bottom desk drawer and pulled out a wooden box. From that he retrieved a cigar. Before Murdoch could object, he placed it in his chest shirt pocket. Murdoch looked at him enquiringly.

"Trust me, Murdoch," he said with a wink and a click, "you'll want that tomorrow night."

* * *

Since he had no idea how long the inspector would be keeping Murdoch, George hurried off on his bicycle towards 22 Ontario Street, feeling increasingly guilty as he got closer to this destination. He had to keep himself motivated by telling himself this was for the greater good. If he didn't look into this matter now, he would surely not get another chance before the detective's wedding. And once Murdoch was married and off on his honeymoon, it would be too late. Whatever was troubling Murdoch would be free to ruin this most special of occasions and leave Dr. Ogden to be blind-sighted. George didn't want that. He only wanted them to be happy together for once and if a little breaking and entering was necessary to expose Murdoch's new nasty habit, then so be it.

Leaning his bike against the iron gate a house over, he stealthily crept up to the back door, peeking in the windows along the way to make sure no one had seen him. Luckily it was now dark out and this cover assisted him most soundly. In any case, none of the other tenants having dinner seemed to have noticed his passing. George took out the 'borrowed' skeleton key and inserted it into the lock. He tip toed along the hallway, stopping at the first gap to peer into a darkened room. No one was in there. It seemed the real trick would be getting to the beginning of the stairs without the chatting individuals seeing him.

George went right up to the edge of the lightened doorway and then realized he had been worrying for no reason. The door to the kitchen was mostly closed so all he had to do was slink on past. Dashing past the crack without being caught, he then slowly made his way up the stairs. Near the top they creaked but the dinner party was making too much noise to hear him.

Quickly he located Murdoch's apartment at the end of the upper hallway and reached into his pocket for the skeleton key. After a few seconds of indecision, he placed it into the lock and instantly gained entrance. Closing the door behind him, he pulled out a flashlight and began scanning the tiny space. Thankfully it wouldn't take long to search the place.

He started in Murdoch's dresser, (again looking for any latches that might indicate a secret compartment) then made his way to the desk and then the closet and finally the bed. When he still hadn't located anything out of the ordinary he decided it was high time to leave.

At the door he thought of something else. Only a little while before they received the Jewish maiden case, Murdoch had been drugged and attacked by a confidence trickster who had been looking for stolen gold. It turned out that it had been in the ceiling. And above this room was the attic. Where better to stash something you didn't want your landlady to find?

* * *

It was fairly late when William knocked on her door. Her servant, Marcella, gave her a disapproving look when she allowed him entrance into her home. Julia couldn't have cared less what she thought, it wasn't as though William were some strange man; he was her fiance for crying out loud! And they were to be married tomorrow afternoon!

"Though I love your company, William," she said as they made their way into the parlour room, "I'm a bit surprised at such a late visit."

"Forgive me, Julia, but I felt compelled to see you tonight."

She detected alcohol on his breath which was highly unusual and thought she understood his motive for being here.

"Yes," she said smiling, placing a hand to his face, "I suppose we have unfinished business."

He placed a hand over top hers and removed it. "I don't think that's a very good idea, Julia, given what happened at the station house."

She raised an eyebrow.

_Then why is he here?_

"I see," she said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

Correctly reading her he said, "There will be plenty of time for that in the coming days. I promise."

She nodded slightly and then sat down. He took a spot beside her and took her hand.

"The reason for this somewhat unorthodox visit is that I wanted to discuss the future with you."

Normally Julia would have been extremely excited about this but based on everything he said the previous night, she wasn't sure that she wanted to know anymore.

"You don't have to, William. I shouldn't have pushed you to divulge such secrets."

He seemed confused for a second.

"Not _that_ future, Julia. But _our_ future."

What was there left to discuss? They had already decided where they would live, and how many children they would adopt, and how much of her wealth she was allowed to lavish on her family at any one given moment. Needless to say, him telling her what she was allowed to do had not gone over very well. But based on his more than usual serious expression, she didn't think they were about to discuss finances again.

Since she had no idea what this was about, she impatiently waited for him to continue.

"Ever since I returned from the Toronto of the future, I've been feeling uneasy and out of place, like I don't belong here anymore."

She studied his handsome face for a moment. "Why have you never mentioned this before?"

"I didn't want to worry you."

"I appreciate the sentiment, William, but it was wholly unnecessary." After a bit of an awkward pause, "Anyway, in regards to this unease, that seems perfectly natural. You've only been back for six months." Squeezing his hand, "I'm sure that this feeling will eventually pass."

"That has not been my experience, Julia. If anything, this unease has been growing stronger over time. To make matters worse, it's frustrating me to no end that I can't be more effective in my case load. I know things now that would solve them instantly. It's as if I'm only going through the motions, pretending to take an interest in them."

It pained her that he was suffering from something that she had no ability to help cure.

"What are you trying to say, William?"

He seemed lost in thought which gave her time to think and then she thought she realized what he was saying.

"You want to go back? Don't you?" He didn't seem to have heard her so she nudged his shoulder. "William." He gave her his attention. "You want to go back, to the future?"

Quizzically, "What gave you that impression, Julia?"

"Oh, I don't know!" she snapped. "The way you've been talking, for one thing!"

"Ah, no, that's not what I was implying."

She was immensely relieved to hear this. She had been expecting him to ask her to travel to the future with him! Where once she would have been thrilled to do so, now she was terrified of experiencing a crumbling civilization. But she would have felt compelled to go, or risk losing him forever.

"It would be unwise to go back there now that I am a wanted fugitive."

He didn't continue and she lost her patience again.

"Oh for heaven's sakes! Then what, William! What are you trying to say!"

"That I wish to leave the constabulary."

He said it as if it was such common sense, as if it was so obvious that that had been what he was leading up to all along.

Despite her best efforts she burst out laughing. Somehow this seemed more ludicrous than travelling to the future. Murdoch and detective were synonymous words in her mind. It was hard to separate the one from the other.

"Julia," he said frowning. "I don't understand what is cause for such merriment."

"I'm sorry, William," she said getting a hold of herself. "If you feel that is something you need to do, then I fully support your decision."

William seemed a bit uncertain. "But how can I just leave it all behind? The inspector and George and-"

She put a finger to his lips. "They will get along just fine on their own. You have to do what's right for you. Your mental health is too important to be playing around with unnecessarily." She smiled, "Besides, I need you in tip top shape for when we start our family."

After a few seconds he smiled behind her finger and she removed it.

"Now the only question is what you will do with yourself. Have you any ideas?"

"I'm not so sure that I really need a new profession. You've got enough money for the both of us."

In mock annoyance, "So now I am allowed to use it, am I?"

He seemed a bit guilty over their previous discussion on the matter. "About that, I was wrong to suggest how you choose to use your inheritance. If you want to spoil our children rotten, then by all means, go ahead...as long as I get to raise them as Roman Catholics."

This was another sore point between them and consequently they shared a look for a second. Julia didn't feel like opening that can of worms right now.

"Seriously though, William, you can't just sit around all day. You're liable to lose your mind even faster that way. You _must_ have thought about this a bit."

He was silent again. "You're going to laugh but I was thinking that I'd simply stay home with the children. I'm sure that they could keep me well occupied."

Julia chuckled a little. "So you are saying that you want to become a housewife?"

He grinned. "What's wrong with that?"

"Whatever will the neighbours think?" she said in mock concern. "We are sure to be the talk of the town."

"Let them talk," he said, grinning even more, leaning her horizontally back onto the plush green sofa.

Smiling, "I thought you said you weren't here for this, detective?"

"What can I say?" he mumbled as he kissed her neck. "I'm a liar."

"Thank goodness for that," she breathed out, eyes closed, gripping the back of his head lightly. "I couldn't stop thinking about that kiss all day. Where did you learn to do that?"

He continued his blissful ruminations and didn't respond.

"William?"

"Enough talking," he said, claiming her mouth, utilizing his tongue in that same maddening way. Her fingers dug into his scalp but he didn't seem to mind.

_Oh my God.  
_


	4. Chapter 4

After searching around for a good ten minutes up above, George finally came across a promising specimen. It was a medium sized black box that was locked. There were no initials on it to identify the owner but George was positive this was what he was looking for. With trepidation he inserted the skeleton key into the lock. It would not fit. He tried several more times but to no avail. While he debated what to do next, someone spoke behind him, startling him badly.

"Whoever you are," said a familiar woman's voice, but in much harsher tones than he was accustomed to, "know that I am armed and not afraid to defend myself!"

From his crouched position he pivoted in her direction, hand to his chest. She held up the lantern higher from her place on the top of the attic staircase and after squinting for a second exclaimed, "Constable Crabtree! Is that you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Kitchen, it's me!" he said hastily, not in the mood to be shot at due to a case of mistaken identity.

"Forgive me!" she uttered, lowering the pistol. "I had no idea!"

"That's quite all right, ma'am!" Trying to deflect his presence here he asked, "What a lovely piece you've got there. I believe it's a Smith and Wesson?"

Kitchen nodded and then scowled. "Ever since that horrid woman held me hostage I've carried this around with me. One can never be too careful these days!" Changing gears instantly, "Pray tell boy, what are you doing up here?"

Though he had expected that he might run into someone during this search, he had failed to come up with an explanation for his presence. The attic was stifling but it was only now that he really perceived it as so and began to sweat profusely. Absentmindedly he stuck a finger in his collar in a pathetic attempt to relieve this extreme heat. The seconds ticked by and she continued to stare at him and then finally her gaze dropped to the black box in his lap.

"What's that?"

Glancing downwards, "Oh, this is um..." inspiration struck and he came up with an plausible excuse, "detective Murdoch asked me to retrieve it for him! He needs it for a case!"

Kitchen seemed surprised. "Really?" she muttered. "I didn't even know that young man had anything up here. I thought it was all just useless keep sakes from my tenants past, things that no one wanted anymore and had left behind."

"The detective is a secretive sort."

"Indeed he is. Pity."

George thought he was off the hook when she started to turn away but then she said, "How did you get into the boarding house?"

"A skel...the detective's key!"

He could have slapped himself for his almost slip up.

"But of course. How silly of me." She smiled for the first time. "Why don't you come down for dinner? I've made a lovely beef stew and there's plenty of leftovers."

George would rather be shot at than have to eat her cooking.

"That's a very generous offer, ma'am, but I'm afraid I've already eaten." Patting his stomach he said, "In fact, I'm fit to burst any moment now." This was not true but he had already lied so what was one more?

"Oh, I'm sure you could find some room in there."

"No!" he accidentally blurted out, gaining an odd look from the elderly landlady. "I mean..." holding up the surprisingly light box he said, "the detective made it quite clear that he needed this immediately."

She shook her head and said, "That young man shouldn't be working so hard the night before he is to be married. Your inspector should not have let him."

"Uh, yes, well, the detective will have plenty of time off soon enough."

"Indeed he will," she responded smiling for a second, only to have it disappear. "I don't know how I will cope with the loss of such a nice, thoughtful tenant. He's lived here for fifteen years you know. He's practically family!"

"Yes, what a shame." Half standing up, "I really must be going now, Mrs. Kitchen. Duty calls."

"Yes, yes, of course!"

Finally she descended the stairs, leaving him free to exit.

* * *

Box securely fastened to the back of his bike with rope, he headed towards the station house in order to make use of the lock cutters. Before he got there, he realized the folly of this idea. Surely there would still be a few constables present?

Since he didn't want any of his colleagues to know of his illegal activities, he instead stopped short of the precinct and after fumbling with the knot for a few seconds, brought the box and its mystery contents into the still open morgue. Most likely he would be unable to avoid running into Emily but he was okay with this outcome, so confident was he in her ability to keep his secret.

Not two steps through the northern threshold, did he find her still scratching away at some report or other that she had neglected to do until now. The idea reminded him vaguely that he was somewhat behind on his own duties. But the thought of what he might find in the black box beneath his armpit quickly evaporated any notions of rectifying this situation.

A few more steps into the morgue and she took notice of him, putting down her pen and smiling soon after. Out of instinct he returned the gesture even though the beginnings of unease were starting to accompany his improper actions.

"Constable Crabtree, to what do I owe this most prestigious of visits?"

He was a bit peeved that she still sometimes referred to him this way but he supposed it was his own fault for failing to take the initiative and consolidating their relationship in a more permanent way. As of yet he had been unable to muster the courage to kiss her even though many opportunities had presented themselves during their courtship.

In any case, that was not what he was meant to be focused on now, there were far more important matters at hand.

Continuing in the vein of formality he said, "Your rib cutters, Dr. Grace."

Interest peaked she stood up and said, "Whatever for?"

"I need them for a rather delicate matter." Her eyes dropped to the box now and lit up with that mischievous glint he knew so well.

Pointing she said, "Where did you get that box, George?"

Involuntarily he gulped. He didn't want to lie to her so he replied, "Detective Murdoch's attic."

Emily's eyebrows shot up to the point of dislocation and he felt it necessary to explain himself further. "The detective was acting very strangely today and I believe that he is experiencing the side effects of drugs." Holding the box in front of him,"And this was the only way to get down to the bottom of the matter."

Emily was flat out gaping at him. Her facial expression was pretty comical and under any other circumstance he would have laughed. Now however, the inner turmoil he had been experiencing since leaving the station house had reached a crescendo and he felt a bit sick to his stomach.

"And you thought the best course of action was to steal his private property? If you were so concerned, why not simply have an open and honest conversation with him?"

"I didn't see the point," he grumbled. "The detective was snapping at me whenever I spoke...hardly makes me a likely confidant."

"All right," she said eventually, placing a hand on his forearm, "if you felt it necessary, I trust your judgement."

"Thank you for saying that, Emily."

They were silent for a bit longer. "So, rib cutters, George?" He nodded. "You are in luck." She smiled. "I have just finished cleaning them."

_Yes, lucky me._

They moved into the main viewing area. While she picked up the cutters from beside the sink, he placed the box down on the slab used for displaying bodies.

Back by his side they shared a look and she said, "Are you sure you want to do this, George? Once I cut this lock, there's no going back. You may not like what you find."

"Do it. Whatever the outcome, I need to know the truth."

_I need to know that there is a logical reason for the detective's bad behaviour._

She nodded and stuck the small, pruning like shears around the handle of the lock. Using both hands she squeezed. Nothing happened. She tried again but still there was no result.

Metal was harder to cut through than ribs.

"Mind if I give it a go?"

Without a word she handed them over to him, apparently annoyed at her ineffectiveness.

George put them in place and mimicked her method. Grunting with the effort, there was finally a loud snap and the lock hung loosely in place. He pulled it out of the slot and lifted the lid. They both peered inside for several moments, frowned and then looked at one another. She was the first to break the intense silence.

"Apparently whatever is ailing the detective is _not_ drug related."

George picked up the strange, multicoloured object and when it unfolded itself due to gravity, they were able to see that it was a bizarre piece of clothing, a one piece suit by the looks of things.

Emily touched the material and bent it inwards. "It's cold, almost like metal but it is clearly not made of metal because it is very flexible. Perhaps the detective has created a new material? Something meant for the fashion industry?"

"I hardly think he has wasted his considerable talents for the purposes of fashion, Emily. The man only owns two suits, one for work and one for church. No," he said shaking his head, "this is something else entirely."

"Well, then, George, what astonishing theory do you have to account for this?"

He didn't reply because he had just noticed something. There was a small rectangular section of the forearm that was different from the rest. He tapped the clear screen, what looked to be made of glass. "What do you make of this?"

She shrugged. "A mirror?"

"There's no reflection."

He turned it around and was met with another puzzling sight. It was silver in colour, resembled metallic teeth and ran most of the length down the back. There was a tiny handle at the top. Instinctively he pulled on it and the back of the suit split apart! Apparently this device was what allowed entrance into it!

Suddenly Emily became very animated. "Well done, George! You should try it on!"

"Excuse me?" he said a bit bemused.

"You heard me! Try it on! If nothing else, it will amuse me exceedingly!"

"I don't know..."

She grabbed his arm. "Oh come on! Where's your sense of adventure?"

Her eyes were burning brightly and he didn't want to disappoint her again as he knew he had done many times before by avoiding that fateful first kiss, so he caved. "All right...but where can I change?"

"Right here of course!"

Eyes widening, "Emily, you can't be serious! That would be highly improper!"

"I won't look, George, you have nothing to worry about. Besides," she said with a wink, "it's not as though I would see anything I haven't seen before."

He blushed.

_Dead bodies_, he thought after a second, _that is what she is referring to...I hope...she was engaged before though...  
_

Twirling his hand, "Turn around then. And no peeking."

She smirked at him but covered her eyes with her hands and then did as he asked.

He put the suit aside and then very quickly unbuttoned his tunic and kicked off his boots. George glanced nervously over his shoulder and saw that she was still turned around. Once he had removed the suspenders from his shoulders he hesitated a moment before dropping his pants. Though he was still wearing his long johns he had never before felt so wholly exposed and embarrassed.

George pulled the tiny handle all the way down and then stepped into the suit. As soon as both legs were in, he knew it was going to be a snug fit, _too_ snug. But he persevered and continued to tug it on. Even with the additional layer of clothing covering his skin, the difference in temperature was astounding and he gasped slightly when it touched his most sensitive area.

"What is it?" she asked, half turning around.

"Never you mind!" he exclaimed, desperate to stop a full revolution.

Thankfully she heeded him and he let out a sigh of relief.

With a bit of effort he managed to wedge the suit past his thighs and then it was a simple enough matter to get the rest of it on, with the exception of the clasp on the back. No matter how hard he tried, he simply could not get past the half way point.

"What's taking so long?" Emily enquired, clearly losing her patience.

"I can't get this infernal thing to go up!"

"Do you want my help?"

"Yes!"

She took one look at him and burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?"

Her response was only to laugh harder.

Irritated he said, "Will you stop that and do up my back?"

Emily wiped her eyes clear and then closed the latch completely. When she came around to face him again, they got very big. He looked where she was looking and mirrored her expression. The screen on the right forearm was lit up in a bright blue hue!

After they got over this initial shock, George noticed that writing had appeared _in_ the screen, as if by magic! It said, '_Good evening, Mr. Murdoch. What is your pleasure tonight?'_

The instant this happened they both jumped and exclaimed simultaneously in their surprise.

That writing disappeared and several options replaced it. In order they were, shield, teleport, jump and exit.

He looked up at Emily who had a surprisingly calm demeanour about her.

"I wonder what teleport means?"

"I don't think we should find out!" was his ready response, heart hammering wildly. "This was locked up for a reason!"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" she said again, annoying him.

Quick as lightning she pushed the screen in that location and it changed once more.

'_Use previous coordinates, 43° 42′ 0″ N, 79° 24′ 0″ W? Y/N.'_

Before she could do anything else he placed his hand over the screen.

"Please George?" she beseeched of him sweetly, giving him a dose of puppy dog eyes. "Try it just this once and then you can put it away forever if you want."

"Fine!"

He hit the Y, assuming it stood for yes and nothing happened. Relief flooded over him in waves. The next second there was a faint humming sound as well as a tingling sensation spreading throughout his entire body. A mild warmth soon after accompanied this. The screen said, '_Initializing._...'

Emily was staring at him with mouth ajar. It was then that he realized the whole suit was glowing in various different colours! But glow was not really the right word for this phenomenon, it was more like a shimmering in which the colours were continuously blending into one another, shifting around into different locations, faster and faster in a mesmerizing fashion until his eyes began to water and he could look no more.

By the time he blinked he found himself alone and in a forest!


	5. Chapter 5

He fell to his knees with one hand to his racing chest, the other to his head, eyes closed in an attempt to dispel the dizziness, taking deep breaths, willing himself to calm down. He was successful in that a few seconds later he vomited and then again and finally his nerves initiated their self correction. George was uncertain whether the dizziness and accompanying nausea was a physical result of whatever had just transpired or simply his mind in shock.

The woods were darkened but he was still pretty sure this was the same forest he and Higgins had swept through yesterday. Using the light from the (now much brighter) display on his forearm, he was able to identify an unusual looking tree in the distance, one that he remembered passing by, confirming his suspicions. A raccoon skittered away when the beam of light went passed and hissed for good measure before leaving earshot.

George shivered and it was no wonder; it was nighttime at the beginning of April and now that the 'suit' had cooled down, the only warmth was coming from his long johns. Shakily he stood up with the aid of a nearby tree and walked towards the exit. Not ten steps and he stepped on something sharp, cutting his foot enough to bother him. This was not the best place to be barefooted but what choice did he have but to walk out of there?

The answer was exceedingly obvious but wholly unpleasant. He would have to teleport out of here! But the idea of undergoing this level of trauma again, so soon after the last time, was not an attractive one, so he shambled along for a ways until he cut his other foot.

_Oh for the love of...!_

It took him several more minutes to work up the courage to activate the suit once more. Mostly what propelled him forth was the idea that Emily must be worried sick and so he needed to get back to her to ease her mind.

George tapped the screen and the list of options swam into view again. He hit teleport and this time the writing (which he read in an attractive female's voice for some reason) said '_Return to previous coordinates 43° 41′ 44″ N, 79° 23′ 19″ W? Y/N.'_

Simultaneously sighing and cursing Emily for her curiousity, he punched the Y option.

The 'trip' back was far less tramautizing and George attributed this to his first hand knowledge of what to expect. This would tend to indicate that his unfavourable reaction the last time had been caused by an overload on the senses and mind, and not something to be expected every time the suit was activated (not that he wished to ever use it again).

Emily was in a hurry by the morgue door, getting her coat on, muttering to herself. Apparently she had not noticed his return. It was no wonder, the suit seemed to function completely silently save for the few seconds of humming before fully activating.

Still somewhat peeved with her for haphazardly forcing him to use something neither of them understood, he held off speaking right away.

When her hand was on the door he said, "Going somewhere, Emily?" She froze.

Whipping around she beamed at him, yelled his name and then ran over throwing herself into his arms, knocking him into the morgue viewing slab. The level of intimacy between them was far more than any he had experienced thus far...with anyone. Only a few thin layers of clothing separated them. Rather than feel aroused he simply felt relief and warmth, having gotten a bit chilled in the few minutes he was out of doors.

"Oh, George, I'm so sorry! It was extremely foolish of me to goad you into trying on the suit, let alone using it! Can you ever forgive me?"

"I suppose," he said, pretending to be more annoyed than he really was because he was quite enjoying this close contact.

Apparently this tactic didn't work very well because she let him go. Looking down in displeasure she exclaimed, "Is that blood?"

He looked down too. He had quite forgotten about his cuts. "Yes, Emily, that is what tends to happen when one is teleported to a forest without boots on."

Her head whipped up and her eyes got very large. "A forest? What was it like? The teleporting?"

"Not something I'm eager to revisit anytime soon."

Hopes dashed she said, "Was it so bad?"

George considered filling her in on the full extent of the carnage but decided against this since it was clear that she felt bad about her actions.

Instead all he said was, "It's late, Emily, and I am very tired."

"Of course...but first let me clean your wounds."

"That's really not nec-"

"I insist. It's the least I can do to make up for my errors in judgement."

"All right but then I really must be going."

She smiled a little. "I trust you'll get changed first."

"That would be wise," he said smirking. "I don't think people are ready for Detective Murdoch's brand of fashion."

* * *

William had stayed the night but beyond the most intense make-out session that they had ever had, nothing had happened. Eventually they had just fallen asleep on the couch, with him cradling her in his arms, no blanket required. Upon awakening, Julia was most pleasantly surprised to realize she had not been dreaming.

"Good morning," she murmured into his collarbone.

He stirred a little and smiled at her sleepily. "Good morning, Julia."

"I had a great time last night."

"Ditto."

"Ditto?"

William opened an eye. "It means I feel the same way."

Julia chuckled softly to herself. "Why exactly does humanity feel the need to shorten every emotion and expression in the future? Is it really that time consuming to articulate oneself properly?"

William shrugged. "Beats me."

_Was that a joke?_

"I wish we could lie here all day but I suppose we have to get ready for our wedding at some point."

"That's today, is it? It completely slipped my mind."

"Very funny, William," she said, hitting him in the face with a cushion.

He grinned and she tried to hit him again but he grabbed it out of her hand and tossed it aside. Then he pulled her closer. They were face to face and she had to admit that his breath wasn't the greatest in the morning, but then again, likely neither was hers. And she was definitely not going to let a little odour stop what came next.

"Good morning," he said again, placing his hands on either side of her face, kissing her gently. Before long, it had deepened considerably and she was beginning to get light headed. If things continued this way, they were bound to get a bit carried away once more so she broke contact and placed a hand to his cheek, which now was slightly scruffy and matched his mussed up hair perfectly.

"We better not, I have a lot to do yet today."

"Party pooper," he said. She looked at him bemusedly. "It means-"

"I believe I get the drift, William," she said shaking her head, standing up.

She moved away from him, heading into the kitchen. "I must say, Dr. Ogden," he called, "you cut a fine figure."

Without turning around she smiled and said, "I'm glad you are enjoying the show. As you should. You just so happen to have the only available ticket."

"I should hope so! I paid a lot of money for that...ring!"

Julia turned around to fake glare at him but couldn't help and smile when she saw the smirk across his face.

"Well are you going to join me for breakfast or not?"

* * *

Though George was now satisfied that Murdoch had indeed not been on drugs the other day, the teleportation suit still wasn't satisfactorily explaining his mood swings either. There had been two other functions on it, only one of which was particularly curious; the jump feature. But George was not foolhardy enough to try something again that he didn't fully understand, the repercussions of which could be far worse than he could fathom.

Since the nagging sensation that something was very wrong would not be dispelled no matter how hard he tried, (a fact reinforced by severe nightmares last night) and since the detective's wedding was mere hours away, there was only one option before him. He would need to go to the source of his disquiet and confront it head on. And the only way to do so was to confess to stealing Murdoch's private property. George was prepared for this eventuality...at least he thought he was.

With the black box in hand, he knocked on Detective Murdoch's apartment door. Usually the only reason for George to do this so early in the morning was when there was a murder. And since Murdoch knew this, he was always very prompt (if not a bit annoyed) at responding. Not so today. Hand in his pocket, he located the skeleton key and prepared to head in again to rouse him.

"He's not in there."

George turned around to face Detective Murdoch's neighbour. She was a pretty sort of girl, (especially when her long black hair was undone as it currently was because she was busy brushing it) but he pretended not to notice. As far as he was concerned, he was spoken for.

Frowning he said, "What do you mean? Where else could he be?"

_It's not even seven o'clock!_

She smirked. "All I know is that he didn't come home last night."

"Didn't come home?" he muttered absentmindedly.

Had the detective ever done this before during their entire acquaintance? Certainly there was the time he went missing in Bristol and the months he was away in the Yukon and getting amnesia again last year and disappearing as a result...but besides those times, he didn't think so.

"Have you really no idea where he is constable?" the girl asked, bemused. "I would have thought his current whereabouts rather obvious." George simply gave her a puzzled look and she chuckled slightly. "If I'm not much mistaken, Mr. Murdoch is to be married today."

"Why yes he is but I'm still not following you miss."

She sighed and chuckled again. "If I were you, I would check with his fiancee."

_Oh._

Now he understood her perfectly. As a result he blushed a bit causing her to laugh louder than the previous times.

Tipping his hat to her he stammered, "Thank you very much, miss. Have a nice day."

"It was my pleasure, constable. You too."

George didn't like to pry into the personal lives of his superiors because he respected them too much (and in the case of the inspector...well, he was a tad afraid of him). But from the little he did know about Murdoch, it seemed highly out of character for him to spend the night with the doctor just before he was to be married! And if Murdoch _was_ at her place it would make things that much more difficult to navigate without rousing her suspicions unnecessarily.

_Why me?_

* * *

The detective's bicycle was outside of the doctor's house. There was no question that he was in there. George hemmed and hawed for a full three minutes before finally working up the courage to do what he had to do.

Almost as soon as he knocked, the door was opened to reveal a thirty something year old woman. Clearly she was the maid.

"Yes, constable? What seems to be the matter?"

"I would like to speak to Detective Murdoch. I take it he is here?"

The woman gave him a disapproving expression. "Yes, indeed he is." She held out her hand and it took a moment before he realized what she wanted.

"I'd like to hold on to this," he said, involuntarily tightening his grip on the black box.

"Suit yourself. Well follow me then. They're in the dining hall."

Before they got there, George could hear the sounds of laughter and this in and of itself was almost enough to make him turn around and leave them alone. Fighting the impulse, he continued to follow the maid towards the source of the merriment. Julia and Murdoch were sitting beside each other, her hand was on his thigh and his was putting an errant strand of hair back behind her ear. It was obviously a very intimate moment and George blushed again but the maid didn't seem to be affected at all by the sight.

"Begging your pardon ma'am but there's someone here to see your fiance."

They both looked up and over at him and removed their hands from one another. The doctor seemed surprised but happy and Murdoch just seemed to be plain annoyed. In fact, George was quite certain that Murdoch was flat out glaring at him! However when Julia glanced at him, his expression had become inscrutable, as it usually was.

"What brings you here so early, George? Not another murder I hope."

"No, nothing like that, sir."

"Is that an early wedding present?" said Julia giddily, grabbing Murdoch's hand and forcing him to come with her.

When Murdoch looked at the box up close, George had expected him to betray some sense of anger but instead there was absolutely no response, as if he didn't recognize it.

_Well it is just a simple black box...why should he?_

"Not exactly, doctor. If it wouldn't be too much of an imposition, could I steal the detective away for a moment?"

"Something to discuss in private?" she said gayly. "I wonder what that could be?"

Apparently she thought this visit had to do with a wedding surprise.

"I'll leave you two to it."

Once she was in another room Murdoch stared at him with bored indifference. Since there was no point in wasting any time, George launched straight into his speech.

"Sir, I noticed that you were acting strangely yesterday and for awhile I thought you might be on drugs." Murdoch raised an eyebrow to this but said nothing. "But I've come to the conclusion that I was wrong in that assessment. There's something else bothering you and I can't seem to put my finger on it. But I think it has something to do with this." Hesitating a few seconds he then opened the box and handed it to him.

The detective took one look at the contents and burst out, "Where did you get this?"

Confused by the question he nevertheless replied, "Uh, your attic."

Collecting himself again the detective said, "But of course. And which features did you try?"

"Just the teleportation one. I didn't much care for it. Sir, what does the jump feature do?"

Murdoch observed him closely for a moment as if deciding how much he was going to divulge. "It allows for time travel."

"Time travel! Oh my goodness! You've perfected Professor Harms technique! Is he the one who inspired you?"

"Yes, his formula's were invaluable to my research. Little did he know just how close he was to making a breakthrough."

Unable to contain himself he said, "So you've been to the future then, for real? Is that where you disappeared to last year? You didn't actually get lost with amnesia again?"

"Yes, to all of your queries."

"So you've been past 1912?"

"Yes, George."

"Past 1925?"

"Yes, George."

"Past-"

"I've been to 2012!" he snapped. George was so immersed in his own wild imagination (ie. giant automatons and flying carriages everywhere) that he didn't notice the detective's change in tone.

"Oh my socks! What was it like, sir?!"

"Noisy, filthy," his eyes flashed dangerously, "murderous."

This response however was hard to miss. "Sir?"

Murdoch seemed to realize he was acting strangely again because he physically shook his head and George noticed for the first time just how odd the detective's hair looked when it wasn't greased down.

"Suffice it to say, things are better here."

"But...you're not," the constable said, tentatively. "Did something happen to you while you were over there to make you this way?"

"I'm perfectly fine, George."

"I beg to differ, sir. I think you're a troubled soul."

Murdoch simply stared at him.

"You know my aunt Petunia says that men who keep secrets from their loved ones always end up alone and miserable. She personally knows at least twenty poor blokes that this has happened to. Their marriages have crumbled but they can't get divorced so they're forced to suffer through each others presence day in and day out. Their children grow to resent them and then turn out a surly sort too. That's why I am always honest with everyone I meet. So if you don't want to talk to me about it, you should at least tell Dr. Ogden what is on your mind. I know it will be difficult but if you just-"

Making fists Murdoch yelled, "I already have you idiot! And would you please stop talking for once in your life and mind your own goddamn business?!"

"William!" uttered Julia, completely baffled by such talk.

Judging by the empty cup in her hand, she had come in for a refill of water from the pitcher.

"Julia!" Murdoch said surprised, looking very guilty.

An awkward silence ensued.

George decided it was time for him to leave. The detective's bad behaviour was out in the open now, his services were no longer required.

_If the doctor can't sort him out, no one can._


	6. Chapter 6

Once George had left, she rounded on him. "William, what on earth was all that about? I've never known you to speak so harshly to anyone, let alone George!"

"Forgive me for my outburst, Julia, but I was a bit put out when I learned that he had discovered the time travel suit."

"_What_?"

He handed her the box with the previously mentioned item.

Glancing up, "He didn't _use_ it did he?"

William simply looked at her.

"Oh my. That is not good at all."

"No it is not. He knows everything now."

George was many good things but keeper of secrets was not one of them.

"What do you intend to do about this?"

"What would you have me do?"

"I don't know. You could...go back in time and make sure he doesn't find it."

Frowning, "Time travel is not a toy, Julia. One does not simply play around with it whenever it suits their fancy."

"So you're fine with him potentially telling others?" she asked surprised.

Murdoch smiled a little. "George is known to be a fanciful lad. Who would believe him?"

His words made sense but she wasn't reassured by them. Past experience reminded her that people who went on about time travel tended to get locked up in the asylum (not that she would ever let that happen to George, though if she vouched for him, they both could end up in there). In fact, she had been just about ready to put William in there when he demonstrated the teleportation feature for her benefit. When someone disappears in front of your eyes, it's hard to think them crazy. If anything you question your own sanity.

"I don't know, William..."

He took the box out of her hands and held her close. The steady rhythm of his heart beat helped to calm her own down.

"There's absolutely nothing to worry about, Julia. Trust me."

"All right, William, we'll do things your way."

"That must be a first."

She punched his arm and he let go of her, smirking.

"Well, I am going to go bathe now," she said. "So I will see you in a few hours. Don't be late."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said giving her another deep kiss that left her knees weak.

He smirked again, picked up his hat from the hook and left.

* * *

As she soaked in the soapy suds of her perfect temperature bath, her mind went blissfully blank and she sighed in contentment. Before long she dozed off. Far from the pleasant dreams one tends to expect while in such a relaxed state, she instead had strange, vaguely disquieting visions of an abstract nature. Thankfully the now cold water roused her from such unpleasantness.

But as she dried herself off, she found her mind becoming troubled once more, as if her subconscious ideas were trying to force themselves to the surface. Most would have attempted to dispel such notions but she wasn't most people. She had read several articles by the German psychoanalyst Freud and he had stated that a persons unconscious thoughts, what he referred to as the id and superego (the former incorporating instincts and drive and the latter conscience) were just as important as conscious thought, if not more so. In other words, she shouldn't dismiss these current feelings of unease simply because it would be preferable.

So Julia let herself be overwhelmed by the increasing sense of dread, and just when she couldn't stand it any longer, a single thought swam across her awareness. It was such a simple thought, one that she should have asked herself earlier, but that her mind had apparently decided to shield her from.

_Why had George gone looking for the suit?_

The impact of this single thought was staggering.

Quickly she got dressed and headed down to the station.

* * *

George was in the middle of a phone call but when he saw her expression, he promptly made his apologies and hung up.

"Come with me right now," she said in a commanding tone that scared him a bit.

They headed to the back of the station house, where many a conversation had been held in private.

"Why did you go looking for the suit?"

"I was worried about the detective."

"Why?"

Puzzled he said, "I thought it obvious. He was acting very strangely."

"Strange how?"

"Losing his temper for one thing."

She seemed quite shocked by this response. "You mean his outburst earlier this morning was _not_ the first time?"

"No, he was very surly for hours the other day while we were investigating Mr. Dasgard's death. The inspector didn't seem to think anything of it, chalking it all down to wedding jitters but I was under the impression that he was using cocaine."

"Why did you not tell me this earlier?" she snapped.

"I didn't want to needlessly worry you until I had more concrete evidence that something was indeed wrong."

She seemed to be contemplating something very seriously.

"George I want you to tell me everything you can about your conversation with him today."

* * *

"He actually said that?" she said slowly. "He actually said that Professor Harm was a source of inspiration to_ his_ research?"

"Yes."

"And that the future was murderous?"

"Yes."

"_And_ he asked where you had gotten the suit from?"

"Yes, I thought that was a bit odd."

"All of it is extremely odd, George!" she exclaimed, suddenly rather frantic and light headed.

"Doctor are you all right?" he said concernedly grabbing hold of her arm when she swayed slightly.

A terrible, impossible idea had begun to form in her mind but unlike the last time, she was not quite ready to allow it entrance yet. If she did, she would completely lose it and be absolutely useless. And there was no time for that.

"I'm fine," she lied, getting a hold of herself. "George, do you know where William is?"

"No, I'm sorry, I don't," he said shaking his head. "But he's probably at home getting ready for your wedding."

Despite her best efforts this idea made her sick to her stomach.

"Are you sure you're all right?" George said, still holding on to her.

"Yes, yes," she said waving him off of her. "I just need a moment to collect my thoughts."

"Please confide in me, doctor. I am more than happy to assist in any way possible."

"That's very kind of you to offer, George, but you've done enough as it is. And it would take too long to explain."

_And I hope to God that I am wrong._

"Then don't, but let me help you all the same. It will be my wedding present to you."

"If I need your assistance, I shall call on you. But until then, just stay here."

He furrowed his brow but said nothing and let her pass by.

* * *

There was only one way to confirm her suspicions and it was to go directly to the source. The problem was finding him. He was not in his abode, nor any of the other usual spots, such as underneath a certain magical tree in the park, or his church. It was far too early for him to be at the church they were to be married at (different from his place of worship since a Catholic priest would never marry them) but she decided to check it out all the same. Other than a few people silently praying, there was no one there.

By complete chance (or possibly her subconscious mind was at work again) she passed by the building that Dr. Roberts was still presumably frozen within. The idea of him in his icy cage brought up another thought, one that had been puzzling her since her fears had taken hold and was one of the major impediments to her believing the possible reality of the situation.

She tried the doors but they were locked. She supposed this made sense since otherwise hooligans could potentially come across the doctor and unplug him.

Without any other ideas of where William could be, Julia went home. And lo and behold, there he was sitting on her doorstep!

"I heard you were looking for me," he said smiling widely, like a crocodile. "Just couldn't keep away, could you?"

"Something like that," she said returning the smile.

Julia did her best to smile normally even though she was very nervous all of a sudden. Apparently he bought her display for he didn't question it.

"Shall we head in?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, giving her a look that often made her heart flutter in anticipation. In this instance however, it was due to a much less pleasant reason.

Before they even got into the parlour room he had grabbed her from behind and began kissing her neck fervently. Her instinct was to move away from his embrace but she knew better than that. If he suspected anything was amiss, things could turn sour in an instant. So she put up with this as best she could, biting her lower lip to keep from screaming.

Once she had mastered her emotions she said as casually as possible, "Remember when you proposed to me in the hot air balloon four months ago?"

"Mmm," was his only response.

"I'd like to go up in a similar one during our stay in Prague. The balloons rich reds and purples were so regal, they made me feel like royalty." In reality the colours had encompassed the entire spectrum, like a rainbow. Someone who had been there would know that, especially someone with such a flawless memory. "What do you say to that?"

"Whatever you want my queen."

She might have taken this as enough confirmation that she was right in her suspicions except that William was currently preoccupied and might not have heard her properly.

Determined to double check she turned around to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and said, "I just hope the weather is as nice as it was the last time. It was so lovely to be able to see the city for miles in every direction, pretending like the people below were my subjects."

The day had started out nice but had poured shortly after his proposal forcing them to land early. They had joked about it being an ominous sign. She wasn't laughing now.

He smiled, "Yes, you did have a gay old time, didn't you?"

As he responded thusly, she had to blink rapidly to keep from bursting into tears. That was all she needed to know. The man before her looked and even _smelled_ like William but was clearly _not_ him! Which meant that he was a psychopathic double from the future intent on mischief!

It explained every odd thing he had done or said in the past twenty four hours!

It explained everything!

How could she have been so fooled? How could she have not noticed the differences in manner and speech? Her William would have never kissed her in public that way! And he had always been so particular about keeping future vocabulary under tight wraps. But then this morning...she shuddered internally, not wanting to think about what had preceded that...he had been so lax about it, but she hadn't given it a second thought. Had her love blinded her to the truth? If so, the illusion was now shattered and it was all she could do not to squirm away from his touch and hit him over the head with something heavy.

On second thought...

She forced herself to kiss him, doing her best not to gag and while he was distracted she manoeuvred them over to the couch where a lamp was sitting on a small corner table. Even though she knew this wasn't really William, when it came down to physically harming someone who looked identical to him, her resolve wavered. But then he stuck his tongue down her throat again and somehow the necessary strength returned to her.

Blindly she grasped for the glass shaft and with trembling fingers she picked it up and brought it down on his head, partially shattering it.

Immediately he let go of her and simple stared at her in a dazed way. She was afraid it hadn't worked and was about to hit him again with the broken remains when he crumpled to the floor.

It disturbed her a great deal to see him laying there with a bit of blood leaking out of his skull, shallowly breathing. She took no pleasure in hurting others, even murderers, even people who had tried to kill her; it was simply not in her nature. That is why she still didn't own a gun, even though three different serial killers (what they were called in the future) had almost finished her off; current company included.

Not wasting any time she ran to the kitchen, grabbed some linens and raced back to the parlour room. Next she brought a chair over to the unconscious double, hefted him up into it like she would a dead body; the main difference being that she had to rely on leg strength for this exercise. Apparently every version of William was quite solidly built and by the time she had him in place she was breathing heavily from the effort.

Finally she used the various linens to tie his arms and legs to the chair, implementing the sturdiest knot she knew how to do, and then tugged on each of them in turn to make sure they were quite secure.

Satisfied with her handy work and supremely happy that Marcella had been sent home earlier that day so that she could avoid having to try and explain this rather unusual spectacle to her, she paced around the room, anxiously watching the clock tick closer and closer to the start of her wedding, waiting for him to wake up.

And when he did, then what? Would he really tell her where her William was? She knew he wasn't dead because of the bizarre connection between the timelines. If one died, so did the other. Which was apparently the whole reason for this William's hatred towards hers. He blamed William for the death of his mother in the future and for some reason time travel cannot correct this universal conclusion.

Whatever plans he had had for her on their wedding night could only have been sinister in nature. Likely after he violated her in the most intimate of ways he had planned on killing her, and then release her William from whatever hell he was currently in, leaving him to be framed and hung.

_No wait, that couldn't be it...otherwise he would end up killing himself._

Growing more and more impatient with every passing second, she decided to speed up the process by using smelling salts. Every proper lady had some in her purse. Though she didn't count herself one and anyone looking on the scene now would certainly agree with this assessment, she did in fact have some in her purse.

Salts in hand, she somewhat violently shoved them under his nose, giving him a few slaps for good measure. He sputtered into consciousness, slightly red eyed and dazed and eventually focused on her face. He tried to move his arms but couldn't and appeared confused until he saw his restraints.

"Julia," he said slowly, "what is going on? Why am I tied up?" He winced. "And why is my head killing me?" Realization crossed his face when he saw the broken lamp pieces on the floor, next to some dried blood. "You assaulted me!" he cried, trying to escape once more. "I can't believe this!"

She dragged a similar chair over in front of him and sat down. "Where is he?"

"_What_? _Who_?"

She smiled grimly. "You know who. William. _My_ William. Where is he?"

He looked at her like she was insane. "It is my understanding that weddings can be stressful times for the brides but-"

"None of that now," she said sternly. "The game is up. There's nothing you can say to change my mind. I _know_ you're not him. And frankly, I can't believe I was ever fooled. You may look the same, but you're nothing like him."

After studying her silently for a few moments he said fairly bitterly, "The talk about hot air balloons, that was some sort of test...one that I obviously failed."

"How very perceptive of you," she replied sarcastically. "Now tell me where he is."

Narrowing his eyes he said, "And why would I do that?"

"Because you value your good looks."

"Really?" he said sullenly. "You would torture me?"

The way in which he responded, in fact his whole dour mood seemed strange to her. He didn't seem upset so much because he had been found out but rather because she didn't have any qualms about hurting him.

_Wait a minute..._

"Were you actually looking _forward_ to marrying me?"

His only response was to look away but this was plenty of confirmation for her.

"How could you possibly have wanted that? You tried to kill me!"

"I made a mistake, all right!" he barked. "I wasn't in a very good place, mentally. But when I was put in deep freeze I was in a sort of dream...limbo state in which I was able to reflect on my life choices up till then. I came to the conclusion that revenge would never make me truly happy. And since I knew that you were the source of my double's happiness, I decided that you could be mine too."

Flabbergasted by this response, she simply stared at him open mouthed.

"But surely you must have known that I would figure it out sooner or later."

"It was a calculated risk," he said nodding, "but one well worth it." Catching her eye, "Whatever faults William possesses, it can't be denied that he has exquisite taste in women. You make me want to be a better person. You are truly one of a kind, Julia."

His compliments were not in the least flattering, all she experienced was annoyance at his delusion. The only reason he would persist in saying such things is if he thought there was still a chance for them.

"I wish I had met you, or rather your double, sooner...before..."

This statement seemed at odds to his previous one but she didn't bother to point this out. Instead she decided to wound him some more to bring him back to reality.

"Before you went and _murdered_ a bunch of people."

He winced again and hung his head.

"It's true I've made many mistakes-"

"Mistakes!" she exclaimed. "Murder is hardly a mistake! There is _never_ a reason that justifies it! There is _always_ another way!"

He didn't respond, apparently cowed.

"Enough of this!" she said grabbing his lapels. "If you actually care for me as much as you claim to, you will tell me where he is!"

William from the future looked at her in a pained way for several seconds. Then his expression neutralized, he opened his mouth and...

George walked in on them!


	7. Chapter 7

Needless to say George was rather flabbergasted by what he was currently witnessing. The doctor had tied the detective up to a chair! The constable had heard about a kind of rough play acting among couples before they became more intimate. But his only real source of information was Henry, and George didn't know how reliable the man really was when it came to these sorts of things considering he wasn't as big of a ladies man as he liked to think. But what other explanation could there be for such a bizarre tableau?

George started to blush, something he had been doing annoyingly frequently these days.

Dr. Ogden was the first to speak. "I can explain, George."

The detective caught his eye. He seemed to be weary and defeated, as if the doctor had just dominated him. "Yes, there is a perfectly logical reason as to why Julia has done this to me."

Finding his voice he exclaimed, "It's none of my business! I'll just be going now! Here," he said tossing the stolen skeleton key into Murdoch's lap, "please take this back, sir! Forgive me for ever taking it!"

Before he could leave however, Julia had called out, "George! Come back! You deserve to know the truth!"

In the hallway he turned around to face them again, cheeks still burning brightly. Waving profusely he said, "No, no! That's quite all right, doctor! I'll just be taking my leave now! I never should have barged in on you two while you were..."

His eyes fell to the ground and he saw a broken lamp and what appeared to be dried blood. They widened and he looked at both of them again. This went far beyond any kind of strange sexual behaviour he had ever heard about!

Puzzled he pointed to the discarded mess and said, "What happened here?"

"The doctor hit me over the head with the lamp, George. As I well deserved."

Detective Murdoch had been acting badly recently but George did not think that qualified as a reason to bash one's skull in! He looked to Julia for confirmation.

She sighed and said, "It's true I'm afraid. I did do that."

Their calm manners stupefied him.

"What on earth for?!"

"It's complicated and difficult to understand but you deserve to know the truth because without you...well I don't want to think about what would have happened without your interference."

They sat him down and explained the situation as simply as possible, as if he were their son and he had witnessed his parents love making. The doctor did most of the talking and Murdoch only added bits and pieces to the conversation when necessary. The longer they spoke the higher his eyebrows rose and the farther down his jaw dropped.

_A double from the future? First teleportation and now this? What next? Martians? How wonderful would it be if I met one of them!...Focus George!_

Gesturing towards the still tied up man he said slowly, "So this man is _not _Detective Murdoch but a ne'er-do-well version of him from the year 2012?"

"Yes," she said.

"And we _all_ have doubles in this Toronto of the future...including myself?"

"Yes."

"What was he like?"

She hesitated for a moment. "William told me that he was a brash young man with little patience and manners and not very pleasant to be around."

"Really?" said George surprised. "Is every version of us worse off in the future then?"

Avoiding eye contact she said, "Perhaps...but enough about this, there is plenty of time to discuss it later." Julia turned to the alternate Murdoch and said, "Right now I need you to tell me where William is. There is only about an hour and a half till our wedding is to be begin and Ruby and Emily will surely come looking for me if I don't make an appearance soon. And I'd rather not have to explain this all over again."

"Of course." Murdoch seemed apologetic. "Unfortunately there is no way you will make your wedding deadline."

Dr. Ogden frowned. "What do you mean? How far away is he?"

"He's quite close by actually...but the _manner_ in which I have trapped him makes things a bit... tricky."

Her brow furrowed deeper. "Tricky how?"

"I gave him a taste of his own medicine."

George had no clue what that might mean but he didn't like the sounds of it one bit.

With as much menace as he could muster on short notice he said, "If you've hurt the detective, you scallywag, you reprobate, I'll-I'll show you what for! You'll-"

The doctor put a hand to his shoulder and he was silenced. "Is he in the same building as Dr. Roberts?"

"No, it would have been foolish of me to do such a thing with Professor Harms coming around daily to check on his brother."

"About that..." she continued.

"What happens to Dr. Roberts?"

She nodded.

"The professor writes an autobiography about his life and work in about fifteen years time, he details everything in there. It's a very good read, I suggest you pick it up. But back to the matter at hand...William is in the basement of a building on Jarvis street." He glanced down at his lap and the skeleton key, "You can use that to get in there if you are averse to teleporting."

She snatched it up eagerly and was half way out of her chair when George stopped her.

"Uh, doctor, he has yet to give us a specific location."

Julia sat back down again and said, "_Well_?"

"I'll tell you in just a second but first you need to get a pen and paper and write down the following instructions exactly as I say them. Otherwise...well, it's best if you don't know."

George shared a look with her and they scrambled to do as he said.

* * *

Julia's lower lip trembled as she viewed William in the cryonics tube that the alternate Murdoch had built from schematics he had stolen from Professor Harms. As a result, it too was emitting a bluish glow from its depths that was vaguely unsettling. William looked so peaceful and she wondered what he was dreaming about and hoped his looks matched his mind.

She placed a hand to the frosty glass and whispered, "Don't worry my love, we will have you out of there soon enough."

Before she could tear up she compartmentalized her feelings and got down to business.

"What did we have to do again, George?"

He held the paper up to the single light bulb in the basement ceiling. "We have to open up a side panel and then manually override the system, whatever that means and-"

"Can I see that?"

The constable held it out to her. The instructions were a bit complex but were stated simply enough so that they could follow them, or at least so that _she_ could. Understandably, her future vocabulary was markedly better than George's.

She read the paper a few times and then said, "All right, George, go ahead and open the panel."

He nodded at her and retrieved a flat headed screwdriver from the tool box they had brought along. About half a minute later the arm wide panel was off and they just stared at the mass of wires and knobs and then at each other. It would be very easy to make a mistake. And if they did, well, she would never forgive herself.

Julia directed George's actions, all the while holding up a flashlight so that he could see what he was doing. She got rather alarmed when he almost turned the wrong dial because he had mixed up his directions. After profusely apologizing, they got back down to it and before long there was only one more dial to turn. At this point however her helper hesitated to do her bidding.

"What are you waiting for?"

He glanced back at her from his kneeling position.

"How do we know we can trust him? For all we know if I turn this knob the whole thing will explode, killing all of us, leaving him free to terrorize the city!"

Something they hadn't covered earlier was that if one died, so did the other. She didn't feel like getting into this right now.

"There's no bomb rigged to this device, George."

"But how do you know?"

"Despite everything he's done, I do trust him. There was a sincerity in his eyes that is difficult to fake."

"But possible. After all he did trick you for over a day."

_Something I will never forgive myself for._

"If he had wanted to kill us, he could have done so a thousand times already."

"True, but you know how these types are doctor, they like to play games-"

Julia was beginning to understand a little why the alternate Murdoch often lost his patience around George.

"Just turn the knob, George. And make sure it's to the left."

"All right," he said. "Here goes nothing."

Once he turned the knob there was a loud hissing sound and George jumped back like a cat would when frightened. A white mist was rolling out of vents from the upper and lower quadrants of the cryonics tube, and if she didn't know any better would have thought it was some sort of poisonous gas and reacted like George had. But she _did _know better and knew it was simply caused by the dry ice effect, the same sort of thing that was used to keep the morgue cold room...well, cold.

Other than this, nothing was happening. And she knew it wouldn't for hours, all but ensuring that their wedding would be missed, as future Murdoch had predicted. But she didn't care one toss about that if it meant getting William back, safe and sound.

In order to make sure William was revived successfully, this process had to be done very slowly so that the partially frozen water in his cells did not expand too rapidly and burst, instantly killing him, like a brain aneurism. Even with this slow warming process in place, the risk was still high that something could go wrong. But she had hope that William would be all right because his double had survived the process, albeit in the future, from a different more advanced cryonics tube, and the aid of medical stimulants that they simply didn't have now...

_Keep it together Julia!_

When the time was right, she would have to rely on an injection of caffeine citrate to bring William out of his comatose state. Emily had unknowingly used adrenaline to do just such a thing when that disturbed woman had drugged him and tried to drown him in the bathtub last year. But Julia did not have access to adrenaline extract, nor was it being produced anywhere, so she would have to make do with the caffeine.

As to how future Murdoch had escaped his prison in the first place, she still didn't know. But if she had to hazard a guess she would say the police managed to follow the money trail, (even though William had made sure to use his alternates 'secret' account) demanded to have him released and then somehow Murdoch had gotten away from them. If future Julia had been involved in this blunder, she was a bit incompetent, which for some reason really embarrassed her, as if she herself were at fault.

George touched her forearm to bring her out of her ruminations.

"How may I be of assistance now, doctor?"

"Assuming all goes according to plan...(_meaning William survives)_...our wedding would have to be postponed for at least four hours but most likely much longer than that. In other words, it needs to be rescheduled."

"I'm sorry."

She simply nodded. "I need you to use that creative mind of yours to come up with a plausible reason as to _why_ this rescheduling must occur."

"Like what?"

"Maybe something to do with William taking ill. That at least _would_ be partially true and is less likely to arouse my sisters suspicions."

"But if you say that she will surely want to come around to check up on you two. As will your father...and Emily-"

"You will just need to find a way to keep anyone from visiting."

"But how?"

"I don't know...say that I suspect his illness is contagious."

"All right," he said uncertainly. "I suppose that could work."

He turned to leave. "Oh and George, you will need to relocate William's double to a less accessible location..._here_ for instance, just in case someone does decide to drop by."

"And how am I supposed to do _that_ by myself?" he said frowning.

Julia jerked a thumb over her shoulder and he followed the path to a familiar looking multicoloured object on a hook.

_Oh for the love of..._

"On second thought, George, you should probably do that right now and _then_ inform the guests when they show up to the church."

George changed into the suit while she stood watch over William, caressing the viewing glass as if it were his face.

A few minutes later he was done and she explained how to extend the teleportation field to include others in it's pull and then wished him luck. He gulped, pressed some buttons and vanished.

What seemed almost immediately after but was probably several more minutes of time, he returned...empty handed.

"Did you not understand my directions?"

"No, it's not that, doctor," he said somewhat distraught.

"Then what?"

George sighed. "I'm afraid he's escaped."

She closed her eyes for a few seconds. "You're quite sure?"

"He knocked over the chair and apparently used the broken shards of glass to cut through his restraints. And I checked the surrounding area...there's no sign of him. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?!" he exclaimed. "Surely-"

She waved a hand at him. "You're not likely to find him. And I need your help dealing with the wedding."

"But he might try something again!"

"Then we'll deal with it _if _and _when_ the time comes."

They shared one last look and then he disappeared again, leaving her to fret over this latest piece of troubling news in private.

* * *

During the next few hours George had made only two more appearances. Once to tell her about how the news had gone over; predictably badly, and once to inform her that Ruby was being difficult and demanding to see her, not caring about the supposed risks. It took a lot of finagling on George's part but eventually he succeeded in getting her to go with him to her house, or rather outside of it, to reassure her sister first hand that everything was under control and that she was sorry about this turn of events but there was nothing she could do about it.

Emily had also been present but hadn't asked any questions and simply observed her. George later informed her that she too knew about the suit and had badgered him for the real truth. But he hadn't told her anything different from anyone else, causing her to get annoyed with him and storming off.

Julia knew that Emily was quite taken with the young man before her and was simply frustrated at his lack of initiative in moving forward with their relationship. But she couldn't very well tell George this or she would be betraying her friends trust and be no better than a gossip.

"I'm sorry to hear that, George, I know that you two have begun courting. But I thank you most deeply for continuing to cover for me."

"Of course, doctor."

Wanting to reassure him a bit she put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Emily will come around sooner or later. She always does."

"I suppose," he said glumly.

After a bit of an awkward silence he peered into the cryonics tube and asked, "How much longer till the detective can be awoken?"

"I'm not sure. But according to William's double, the door will simply open when he has thawed out enough to inject the stimulants."

"Do you want me to wait with you till then? It's rather gloomy down here and there's no telling if that scoundrel might show up again."

"Thank you for offering, George but it's not necessary."

"Are you sure?"

Julia realized she was being stupid. Of course George would want to make sure everything turned out all right.

She smiled. "On second thought, I would greatly appreciate it if you did."

He returned the smile and then they prepared for the task ahead.

* * *

Just when she didn't think she could take his ramblings about his infinite number of aunts any longer, there was a loud beep and the cryonics door swung open slowly. George stopped mid sentence and they hurried over to the tube in which most of the ice had been melted.

The constable helped her pull William out of there, (he was still a bit cold to the touch but that was to be expected) and then they laid him out on a morgue stretcher that George had procured.

Julia opened her medicine bag, with the already prepared needle within and shakily retrieved it. After saying a silent prayer she injected it into his right arm. Whatever happened next was out of her hands and she hated the feeling of having no control.

An intolerable number of seconds passed by and still nothing happened.

"Maybe you should give him some more caffeine?"

"No, I already gave him as much as I could. Any more and I will definitely do more damage than good."

Julia checked his pulse and was dismayed to find that there was none!

Becoming a bit frantic she slapped his face a few times, startling George. "Wake up, William! Wake up, dammit!"

When that had no effect she started hitting his chest over and over again and then remembered something about this thing called CPR in the future. She didn't know how to do it exactly but she did know this one part.

Julia tilted back his head and breathed into his still abnormally cold mouth, illiciting more confused remarks from George.

Then she moved back to his chest and pushed on it in a more methodical manner and again repeated the breathing exercise.

While she was in the middle of this for the fourth time, his eyes popped open and she pulled back quickly so that he could cough violently. Once that had subsided he complained of being cold. She wrapped a thick wool blanket around him and then grabbed him, so happy that he was all right.

He held on limply and said, "What took you so long?" repeating the same thing she had said to him after he rescued her from being buried alive.

The response was the same, they just laughed and laughed and George joined along with them.


	8. Chapter 8

All three of them teleported out of that hell hole and into Julia's home. It looked much the same as she had left it, except the chair was over on its side, just as George had said. Other than briefly glancing at this, William had no interest in it whatsoever. Even though he had barely moved in the past two days, he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Almost dying will do that to a person.

"Goodnight, George, and thank you for everything you have done for us. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

Before he could replay she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek causing him to turn bright red. Julia stifled a laugh.

He rambled some things and then headed out the front door. Soon after she helped a weary Murdoch up the stairs to her bedroom and laid him down. As she removed his shoes, suit jacket and tie, he said nothing and just lay there staring at the ceiling.

She sighed at his lack of interest in everything. This was _not _how she had envisioned their wedding night, though she supposed it _could_ have been much worse and she should thank her lucky stars that it wasn't.

After pulling the blankets up to his chin she asked, "Are you warm enough?"

A curt nod was the only response.

Julia pulled her pyjamas out of her top dresser drawer and moved behind her rarely used dressing partition. The only times she ever used this anymore was when Ruby happened to be staying with her and couldn't wait five minutes for her to be dressed to speak with her, which was apparently every time she was getting changed.

The partition was a bit see through in that her outline could be partially seen. She looked over at William and was rather disappointed to see that he didn't seem to have the slightest interest in what she was doing.

_He's been through a lot_, she told herself and she half believed this was the only reason for his actions, or rather, lack of them.

Every night when she removed her corset, she felt empowered, like her shackles had been discarded and her possibilities in life were endless. Even so, she would have preferred to not have to wear one at all. From the little she could figure out, women in the future didn't have to wear them and some even wore men's clothing! Still, there was no place she'd rather be than with William, even if he was as stiff as a board sometimes.

Julia hated to admit it but his double was much more pliable and romantic and she kind of wished William was more like that once in awhile. Perhaps he would be once they were married? But when would that be? It seemed every time they got close to finally tying the knot, something got in their way, as if the universe were working against them, trying to keep true love apart like in an annoying Shakespearean plot.

She sighed again and crawled into bed with him and still he didn't respond at all.

"Goodnight, William," she said taking his hand in hers beneath the sheets.

"I'm not tired," he mumbled, never taking his eyes off the ceiling.

"You've been through a terrible ordeal and you need your rest."

"I'm not tired," he repeated, like a broken phonograph.

Julia realized what he was trying to say, which was that he didn't _want_ to close his eyes, afraid something might happen to him again. She wanted to reassure him and say that there was nothing to worry about, but she knew better than that with his double on the loose.

"When you saved me from being buried alive I never wanted to close my eyes again either. And when I finally did due to utter exhaustion, I was plagued with the recurring nightmare of being trapped in the coffin, running out of air... So I acquired Dr. Roberts services and as you know he did wonders for helping me get past my trauma." She squeezed his hand, "And I can do the same for you, if you'll let me."

William was silent for a moment and pulled his hand out of hers.

"He told me before he put me in there."

"Told you what?"

"His plans."

"Oh."

She really didn't want to have this conversation tonight but it looked like she had no choice in the matter.

For the first time since he lay down, he looked at her. "Did you...kiss him?"

His gaze was so piercing that she couldn't hold the contact.

"William..."

"Did you enjoy it?"

She didn't respond.

"Just how intimate _did_ you get?"

Putting a hand to his face she said, "You have no idea how sorry I am or how guilty I feel about what happened. But I thought he was you...and we were to be married soon so..."

He put a hand over hers. "It's perfectly all right, Julia. I completely understand."

William smiled strangely and then turned on his side, facing away from her. No matter how much she prompted him he would not engage her in further conversation. So she sighed once more and tried to get to sleep.

* * *

When she awoke the next morning she was dismayed to find William was no longer present. At first she became a bit frantic, thinking his alternate had kidnapped him again but then she went downstairs and found him drinking some tea by himself in the dining hall.

"Good morning, Julia," he said not unpleasantly but somehow she didn't feel like he meant it.

"About last night-"

He waved a hand. "It's fine, Julia. You don't need to say anything else."

She had had just about enough of his calm demeanour. "It most certainly is not fine! I betrayed you! I became intimate with another man! You should be furious! You should be raging at me!"

"It wasn't your fault. You couldn't possibly have known he wasn't me. I'm sure I would have made the same mistake."

"Oh you're impossible! I'm giving you free reign to give me what I deserve and yet you won't stop being perfect! It's infuriating!"

"I am not perfect," he said frowning.

"I beg to differ! You are positively saint like! How am I supposed to compete with that?!"

"I am not perfect," he repeated. "I-I never told you something important about my time in the future. I was afraid how you would react and I had just gotten you back...so I cowardly kept it to myself."

"What on earth are you talking about?!"

William sighed. "As you know there was a different version of you there...and I... that is to say that we...well..."

"You were intimate with her," she said quietly.

He nodded. "But you were married and I was stuck there and it just kind of happened."

"How is this supposed to make me feel better? You were completely in your right to court another! Whereas I wasn't!"

"I wasn't completely in my right...I had never stopped loving you, Julia, and yet instead of fighting for you, the _real_ you, I settled for the next best thing. I tried to substitute _her_ for _you_. That is not very noble and I betrayed her trust just as much as you did, except that you have a good excuse." He hung his head. "I- I was just scared and lonely."

She would be lying if she said she didn't feel a certain amount of jealousy towards her double for getting to be with William when she so desperately had wanted to while married to Darcy. But oddly enough, more than anything else, she felt like laughing and indeed that is what she started to do.

"Julia?" he said quizzically.

"In other words, we both cheated on each other...with each other!"

He raised an eyebrow and then smiled slightly. "Yes, I suppose that is an accurate statement."

She went closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "We're going to be fine, aren't we?"

"Of course, Julia...but I must admit that I am still a little jealous about what must have occurred between you and him."

"You have nothing to be jealous about, William."

This wasn't strictly true since she had enjoyed the alternates unusual skills and as of yet, that is to say, since their engagement, William had been lacking in the passion department.

"Let me prove it to you," she said, settling into his lap sideways, wrapping her arms around his neck.

At first he seemed hesitant to hold her waist but then he did and she leaned in and kissed him deeply. Julia couldn't believe she had ever mistaken his double's kiss for the genuine article. They were world's apart! She was surprised when he utilized the weird tongue technique that his double had been so proficient at.

Instantly she pulled away and stared at him strangely.

"It _is_ you, right?"

"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to kiss you like that, it was disrespectful of me. It won't happen again."

She chuckled. "William, you weren't being disrespectful. I was just unaware that you knew _how_ to do that."

He made a face. "So you were kissing _him_ like that then, eh?"

She frowned. "And clearly you were kissing _her_ like that too."

"This was a bad idea," he said removing his hands from her waist. "Apparently we still need some time to get over what happened."

"Will this never get any easier?" she asked, with a sigh.

William put an errant strand of golden hair back behind her ear, his hand coming to a rest on the side of her face. She leaned into his touch.

"True love is never easy to come by, Julia. It's the struggle to reach the happy ending that makes the whole thing worthwhile, that gives it purpose and meaning."

"Is that what we have then?" she enquired, surprised by his open talk about rather sentimental things. "True love?"

"Did you ever doubt it?"

Slightly exasperated, "Well, yes, as a matter of fact I did, William. My faith in our love was rather shaken when you let me marry another man."

She had meant this in a playful way but William had taken her words to heart.

He closed his eyes and said, "Something I will never forgive myself for."

_Sounds familiar._

Julia stroked the hair on the back of his neck with her thumbs. "Suffice it to say, we have both made mistakes in the past and all we can do is try to make peace with them and move on with our lives."

She felt like such a hypocrite as she said this, knowing she would never forgive herself for her own recent mistakes but she felt it was a necessary thing to say.

"Not an easy task."

"No, it's not but I'm sure if we persevere, one day if we're very lucky, it may very well happen."

He smiled. "When did you get to be so wise?"

She returned the smile. "I _always_ have been. You just haven't been paying enough attention."

"I beg to differ, Julia. I am highly observant. That's what makes me such an excellent detective."

Her expression changed to one of uncertainty, wondering if she should even bring her next thoughts up, potentially ruining the mood again. "About that...your double intimated that he no longer wished to be one because of his future knowledge and subsequent lack of interest in the cases. And I was just wondering..."

"If I felt the same way?"

She nodded.

"I'd be lying if I said I never became frustrated with our lack of detecting tools nowadays, _but_ it is only slightly more than I ever used to be annoyed about such things. I assure you, Julia, I am just as intrigued by the cases as I ever was."

"So...you aren't feeling out of place in this time either?"

William's eyes shifted to the left. "No, of course not."

"_William_."

He sighed. "From time to time, yes, I do feel like I don't belong. But again, I have always felt like that to some degree. The feelings have just been heightened." She frowned. "But I have you, Julia," he said squeezing her hand, "and that's all I need, all I'll ever need to keep me sane."

She was still uncertain and he said, "Here, let me prove it to you."

He pulled her in for a blissful kiss.

When they parted she mumbled, "Yes, I'm feeling much more reassured. However, I'm highly skeptical of things and need a _lot_ more proof."

"That can be be arranged," he said with a toothy grin bringing her in for another kiss, this one much deeper.

"Perhaps sane was not the right word usage."

She simply giggled in reply.

After a little while he attempted the tongue technique of before and she quickly became aroused, digging her finger nails into the back of his skull. In response his grip tightened on her waist and a throaty moan escaped his lips, for the first time ever, further arousing her.

Only the faintest traces of clear thought were present and as such it was all she could do not to tear his clothes off right then and there. As usual, he was the first to break contact. Unusually, his eyes were dark and hungry and his face was flushed. She was pretty sure she was mirroring him exactly.

Breathlessly he said, "I hope that is enough proof, Julia because we really must stop."

"Oh party pooper," she said, equally breathlessly and vastly frustrated.

William raised an eyebrow at that but didn't comment. She sighed and removed herself from his person and feeling light headed took a minute to regain her senses before heading into the kitchen to make herself some tea.

* * *

After that passionate outburst neither could wait much longer to get married and as such, they didn't. Only a week later they were wed. Maybe half of their previous guests were able (or wanted) to come this time around. The ceremony was what one would expect of such an affair; sweet and endearing, tear inducing; lovely.

But of particular note was something that happened shortly before she headed down the aisle. Her bridesmaid's Ruby and Emily had just left the changing room to give her a moment to herself and she was staring into the full length mirror, trying to calm herself down by quietly muttering sweet nothings, when a man appeared directly behind her, startling her terribly.

"You look beautiful, Julia."

Hand to her chest she backed away from him, into the mirror. "Stay away from me!"

He frowned. "I'm not here to hurt you or impede your wedding in any way...again."

Disbelieving, "Then what _are_ you doing here exactly?"

"I just wanted to say goodbye and that I hope you have many happy years together."

"Well, that's...nice of you. What will you do next?"

He smiled. "Go back and atone for my sins of course."

"You plan on turning yourself in?" she said, eyes widening. More cautiously, selfishly, "Is that...wise?"

"You're worried that something will happen to me in prison. Don't be. They don't hang criminals anymore in Canada and I have a strong suspicion that someone as slippery as me will be put in isolation. William need not have gone to all that additional trouble of enslaving me. But I'm glad that he did because otherwise I would still be burning with a consuming hate and need for revenge. Now I am much more clear headed and can devote the rest of my life to repenting my many sins."

"I'm...happy for you?"

It sounded like a question because she was a bit out of her element.

His smile widened further and he said, "Well, I'll let you get to it."

"Wait, before you go, I'm curious about something."

"Oh?"

"You've had a time travel suit on you this whole time, (_how else would he have gotten here_) but instead of showing up right before my wedding, you chose to appear over a day in advance. Why?"

He shrugged. "That would have been too easy. I like a bit of a challenge."

"But you also chose not to go back and prevent George from discovering your secret."

"Yes, well, perhaps I was starting to feel guilty about what I was doing. Perhaps I _wanted_ you to find out before it was too late. Perhaps deep down, I wanted to be stopped because I knew I didn't deserve you."

"Whatever the reason...thank you."

He flashed her a genuine smile, one that was so elusive on William and while she was distracted by its brilliance, he had raised her gloved hand to his lips briefly, muttering that she was beautiful again.

Future William stepped back a bit and inputed something into the display of his suit, (beneath his regular suit) and the device began to hum into operation. He held up his palm and parted his fingers strangely, into what resembled a V and after winking said, "Live long and prosper."

Julia's eyes watered as he turned into a shimmering multi-coloured blur and vanished. Literally seconds later, Ruby came back into the room and said, "If you're crying already Jules, how do you expect _me_ to make it through the ceremony?"

Of course her sister made it about herself. Ruby had a real talent for that.

"I'm fine," she said about to wipe her eyes dry with the back of her gloved hand.

"No, no, Jules, use this!" her sister exclaimed, extracting a handkerchief out of nowhere.

Julia vaguely wondered if she had picked up some tricks from Houdini.

"All right," she said a moment later. Smiling nervously, "I'm ready."

"Thank God," replied Ruby seriously. "It's about time."

* * *

**Fin**

**Hope you enjoyed it! This was really fun to write! Let's get some darn passion in the show now! Hopefully time travel is not required for that, though at this point, I might not mind. :p  
**


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